* Realized earlier this week that Middle of Nowhere was a pipe dream. Wake up with my only ambition being to see Cloud Atlas with Nicole and go to work.

* My throat feels funny. I strongly suspect I am finally succumbing to sickness. I refuse to believe that and down juice and vitamins as if my life depends on it. In a completely superficial way, it does – I need to last until Monday night! Otherwise I will be too sad to live! Or something!

* Do everything I can to ward off illness and power through to get to the Elgin.

* Spend about an hour and a half in line listening to the poor volunteer next to me explain to everyone that the line for Cloud Atlas continues around the corner and on the next block. He apologizes for me having to hear it repeatedly, I assure him I have been there and I know his pain, I am not bothered at all.

* Before Nicole shows up some dude tries to sidle up to me in line like he just belongs there. The volunteer assumes we are together, so now I find myself saying, “sorry, the line actually continues around the corner there.” I don’t think I made an admirer of that dude…

* Nicole arrives, as does my friend Katherine, who is worried about butting but who I assure I was saving a spot for as well.


* Three hours later, we are outside absolutely stunned by the scope of that film. We can’t shut up about it, about all the little moments that connect to each other, about all the various parts each actor played, about the makeup, the cinematography, the effects, the story! It was like watching 7 different movies all at once – a period drama, a 70s spy thriller, a cheeky British comedy, a futuristic sci-fi tale, a post-apocalyptic action adventure, a forbidden love story, etc. and each one connects to the others in small ways, and yet they really aren’t that connected at all. I need to read the book at my earliest convenience now.

* Movie ends and I saunter to work. Ever since the Much Ado fiasco I make sure to show up on time, if not early every day. Today it is a good thing I do because on account of road closures and a broken down bus, everyone else is late. Not super late, but late enough that I start to question if I had written down the wrong start time.

* It is technically my last shift and I feel a little sad. I almost wish I hadn’t given away my Sunday shift. Almost.

* Discussions this evening include:
If I quit, my supervisor would kill a puppy; how I look both very nice and yet miserable; Sonia and Christina being on the same broken down Go Bus that was leaking green ooze and demands for them to sing the “Ninja Rap” from Nina Turtles 2; and dreams about being a ghost that only lesbians can see.

* The longer my shift runs, the more my head feels like it might explode. I have such a headache and despite my best efforts to power through, it’s starting to show that I’m not at 100%. I begin to seriously question whether I can handle Midnight Madness. I really, REALLY want to see John Dies At The End but I’m starting to wonder whether I can make it. I need sleep.

* Due to some weird scheduling, our shifts are shorter than anticipated – we were scheduled until 10 something but the last movie is at 7:30. I take this as a sign that I should go home and sleep. I plan to nap and get up in time to come back to Midnight Madness.

* I get home and pass the eff OUT. I sleep through two alarms, three texts and a phone call. Clearly, my Saturday night is a wash.


1) Try as I might, there is just no escape from Festival burnout.

2) Cloud Atlas is INCREDIBLE.

3) Hugh Grant is pretty unrecognizable when done up in makeup.

4) The entire cast of Cloud Atlas is impressive, as is the makeup artist on the film.

5) I really need to read that book.

6) I looked pretty today, according to three separate people including a random customer.

7) If I am not careful, my body is just going to give out on me entirely.


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